


Touching Hands

by Dawnwind



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Episode: s01e22 A Coffin for Starsky, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnwind/pseuds/Dawnwind
Summary: Hutch kept Starsky grounded before and after the poisoning that almost killed him.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Touching Hands

Touching Hands by Dawnwind

 _Hands, touchin’ hands, reachin’ out, touchin’ me, touchin’ you…_  
Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond

In that weird divide between poisoned and recovery, Starsky drifted for two days waiting for his lungs to breathe effectively and his kidneys to function. Life seemed to fluctuate—not slipping into death but more into an invisible half- world where reality and wishes swirled together, merging and then changing into dreams.

He reached out to clasp Hutch’s hand, feeling the large, strong fingers curl around his, opening his eyes to realize blearily that no one else was in the hospital room with him. Yet, he knew this had happened. He had held Hutch’s hand, in front of every other person in the squadroom, and gained courage, strength. Hutch hadn’t pulled away, hadn’t muttered something asinine like it was unmanly. He’d held on. Touched more than Starsky’s flesh in public. Touched his heart and his soul.

He’d gathered Starsky into his arms in that alley behind Janos’ grimy studio, protecting him against all foes, loving him with that weary but undimmed valor that made Starsky love him all the more.

He could still sense Hutch’s hold on him, touching every cell in his body, even when he floated in a miasma of sedatives and the hellish antivenin that made him feel like he was burning up and freezing at the same time.

Organ failure, the doctors had predicted. Cellular death and an overload of the neural pathways. No one, not even the cruel inventor of this dark potion, Jennings himself, really understood what the drug would do to the human body. Starsky was a pioneer, a guinea pig for science, watched intently by all the medical staff for any signs of wasting away, or conversely, healing completely.

Starsky knew this was not the end. He was quite certain that Hutch knew, as well.. Not sure that Hutch had believed, fully, in those last dark hours before their twenty-four hour deadline passed. But he had persevered, as Starsky had done in his own way. Pushed the envelope, crossed the finish line with determination and a cast iron will to survive.

Together. Nothing else mattered. Starsky knew. Opened his eyes again to see Hutch gazing at him from the doorway. There was such awe in his expression. Such wonder and hope in those clear blue eyes. 

And love. 

Always love. 

This was what Starsky knew. He loved Hutch and Hutch loved him. Nothing else mattered or ever would.

Hutch reached down to touch Starsky’s hand, and then leaned forward. Starsky didn’t have to move much to lock lips with him. 

This is why he kept going. Because he had a destination, with Hutch.

FIN


End file.
